


Amalekites

by TheSickenerHits



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Angst, F/F, Friendship, Implied Alex/Nicky, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSickenerHits/pseuds/TheSickenerHits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the final count before Christmas, and two women are missing from the dorms. How will Alex cope when she discovers that Piper is one of them? (Based on s1e13. Rated T for one instance of very bad language and a tiny bit of violence.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amalekites

**Author's Note:**

> _“Surprised me too. She never used to be the aggressor. I guess it was a new colour she was trying on. Maybe she was bored, who knows.”_ \- Alex Vause, 1:13.

The final count before Christmas went unclaimed, numbers hanging in the air like cobwebs, thickening the atmosphere. Word spread quickly that there were two women missing - _two_ \- and Alex knew that the mother superior of meth-heads was one of them: her bunk empty, blankets folded across the bed like a straightjacket, although Alex kept the satisfaction of _that_ irony to herself.

Correctional Office O’Neill was fumbling for his radio, the messages from which ricocheted from cube to cube, inmates sighing restlessly on all sides as he repeated his message.  
“Doggett is missing. Should I pull the alarm?”  
His whispers were pantomime worthy, and a few of the women exchanged eye rolls and mocking smiles around him. “No, I _haven’t_ seen her!” 

Alex made eye contact with Nicky, one eyebrow arched to mirror the meridian of her mouth as she muttered under her breath: “It’s a Christmas miracle." 

O'Neill turned to the sea of onlookers then, flitting around with obvious discomfort, his ruddy complexion growing redder by the second.  
“When did anybody last see inmate Doggett?”  
Nobody answered, although whether the others knew something or not, Alex couldn't be sure. Not that she cared - a night without Pennsatucky was a night better spent. 

Leanne - appalachian asshole number two - was growing evidently nervous next to her, shifting her weight as though there were fissures opening beneath her feet, cracks in her conscience oozing up through the floor. Alex wondered if those were signs of worry, or something worse.

“Well?” O’Neill’s sudden roar was met by Morello’s scared squeak from the end of the room.  
The brunette began to back away before she even opened her mouth, although she probably knew only as much about the missing inmate as the rest of them did.  
“She was in the nativity, she was the angel, but when the show finished - ”  
  
The CO advanced on the small woman, her head shaking more rapidly with every step he took in her direction as she babbled at him, panicked.  
“And _then_ what?”  
O’Neill’s breathing was rapid, stopping short of Morello, and her anxious stammer stretched the conversation close to the limits of O’Neill’s patience, her pale fingers pressing again the painted breezeblock barrier of the cube behind her. 

Alex could feel a protective fury radiating from Nicky, whose lips were pressed into a hard line, the muscles in her jaw jumping as she tensed and flexed on the spot.  
For a junkie, she had impressive willpower, boots squeaking against the floor as she resisted the urge to intervene.

“I didn’t see her after the play." The brunette whimpered. "She wasn’t with the rest of us when we took our costumes off; she was the angel, you know, with the halo and the, the...”  
Morello’s hands were at her face, touching her lips self-consciously as she trailed off mid-thought. She trembled silently, brushing non-existent hair away from her forehead and blinking in the bright strip lighting of the dormitory.

O’Neill exhaled, stepping back and reaching for his radio once more to report this latest piece of news.  
“Nobody’s seen her since the play.”  
He watched the room tentatively, as though there was still a chance that the missing woman might spring from beneath a bed or crawl from a cupboard.

A bustle of static spat from between the guard’s fingers as a second flurry of messages was futzed by the wires. It was Fischer, who despite having the evening off, seemed to have answered the call to duty.  
_"I've found them. They're both here, yard by the fire exit, down the south corridor from the hall."_

Mumbling began to mount in volume, and O'Neill seemed to have forgotten where he was, oblivious to the fact that the whole room was witness to the drama. He stood stock still, staring at the radio as though it might set alight.  
Caputo’s voice splintered the air, sharp and cursory. _“I want all bodies to the south corridor yard, now! What’s the state of play?”_  
The noise in the room surrounding Alex began to rise, and it was only out of sheer curiosity that she leaned in to listen.  
_"It's... It's a mess, sir. Doggett is unconscious,"_ Fischer continued, leaving Leanne to gasp audibly at the news. _"And her mouth - oh God, her mouth..."_  
Fischer fumbled with phonemes, and a retching sound issued from the tinny speaker on O'Neill's chest. 

Leanne made a small sobbing noise, hand covering her mouth.  
" _Oh please_." Alex muttered with disdain, turning her head in the woman's direction. "She'll be fine. She's got _Jesus_."  
The brunette raised her middle finger skyward, as though she were gesturing at the deity that Leanne was a fool to have forgotten. Leanne countered the irreverent smirk with a mouthed obscenity, eyes back on the source of the sound like it was some sort of lifeline.

The radio hummed again, Fischer's concern crisp between Caputo’s barely-concealed curses.  
"Chapman's pretty banged up too. She's not making much sense, and there's a lot of blood."

Alex felt like someone had slammed on the brakes too soon, whiplash compromising her common sense as her head whipped around to face the source of the noise. "What the _fuck_?"  
Her voice was louder than she would've liked, and she broke away from the wall with force. 

O'Neill rounded on her, arm extended and palm outstretched, halting her in her tracks as she did her best to push forward. "Inmate!"  
Nicky was quick to catch on, rushing from her own cube to lay a firm hand on Alex's shoulder.  
O'Neill stared the brunette down, eyes holding her in place as he raised his voice again. "All inmates to your bunks, now!" 

The other inmates began to disperse, but Alex stayed where she was, conflicted between fight and flight, although _with whom_ and _where to_ were questions yet to be answered.  
As the women around her slunk into their creosote confines, Alex held her ground, standing still in the centre of the room.  
The CO's radio had fallen silent, but she had to know something, anything. She _needed_ more information, incapable of waiting around while Piper was inexplicably hurt, incomprehensibly injured. 

Nicky moved into her eyeline, slipping between she and O’Neill, and placed a warm hand on her chest as she pressed Alex back towards her bunk.  
Alex wrapped long fingers around the woman’s wrist, but Nicky’s gaze held a warning, her lips following suit. “Don’t try it, Vause. There’s enough shit here tonight without you joining in.”

Fears of riotous ramifications evidently quelled, O’Neill made for the exit. The inmates watched O’Neill’s retreating back disappear from the doorway, and Alex dropped her hold, fists clenching. “ _Fuck_.”  
Nicky’s answering bark of a laugh was short, sharp. “I know Vause, I get it. Really, I do. Sounds like Penn’s the one who got the worst of it though.” 

Alex responded by slamming her boot into her locker, denting the door as she forced shaking hands through her hair. The room fell silent around them - another person’s stress was a schadenfreude spectator sport in this place, and Alex was reluctant to become a figure of fun.

“Hey, Vause,” Nicky rounded on her again, placing herself for the second time between Alex and further violence. “Blondie’ll be fine. She always bounces back, right? ”  
Alex raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to push past numerous examples from their shared history in which Piper had _not_ bounced back. 

“I just… _Fuck_.” Alex repeated, louder this time, eyes raised to the ceiling in an effort to be anywhere but here. Whispers erupted around her as she lifted her glasses onto the top of her head, knuckling her eyes until dark tendrils obscured her vision.  
Nicky placed a warm palm between her shoulder-blades. “Yeah, I heard you the first time, sister sailor mouth. Come on.”  
Alex allowed Nicky to take her hand, too numb to determine her own fate, letting the blonde lead her back to her bunk, where Leanne sat smugly.

Nicky moved to Morello - who had been hovering anxiously at the mouth of the cube since O’Neill’s hasty departure - and spoke in hushed tones. The diminutive woman cast kind smiles with sad eyes in Alex's direction, which Alex did her best to ignore. She didn’t want pity, she wanted Piper.

Conversation concluded, Nicky turned back, strolling into the cubicle as though it were her own, pausing in front of Leanne. “Little Miss Meth-head, out. I’m sharing with Vause tonight.”  
Leanne didn’t move, eye locked onto Alex’s as though she could wound her with a stare. Nicky stepped between them, her own gaze galvanising the woman into action. “Hey retard, I said get out.”

“I’ll get a CO.” Leanne rose to her feet with the threat, brandishing the words like a weapon.  
Alex was already bored of the confrontation, her body against Nicky’s as she pressed on, accusations like acid in her mouth.  
“Did you know about this? Did you know that your pea-brained pro-life _cunt_ had it in for Piper?” She reached over Nicky’s shoulder, pointed finger aimed at Leanne’s face.  
Leanne leaned as far forward as she dared to, clearly faithful that Nicky was able to hold Alex back. “Your girlfriend had it coming.”

Nicky attempted to place a cautionary arm out beside her to bar Alex from further action, but Alex became an unstoppable force, practically airborne with anger as she surged forwards. She fumbled before finding Leanne’s throat, applying pressure in a manner that threatened to crush _something_ , if only she’d paid attention in human anatomy lessons at school.  
She was oblivious to the crack of the girl’s skull as it connected with the concrete behind her, or the failing flex of the inmate’s fingers around her own as they crashed down onto the bunk together.

Despite the hands pulling at her and the cries sounding out around her, it was Red’s voice that brought her back, calmed the ringing in her ears, and found her facing a sea of perplexed faces as she stepped back into her own space and out of Leanne’s.  
“ _This is ridiculous, Vause._ ” 

Red was mid-monologue when Alex tuned in, limbs loose as she caught her breath and made a conscious effort to slow her pulse. Angie had moved between she and Leanne at some point, although Alex was avoiding surveying the scene to the best of her ability.  
“You cannot help Chapman if you’re in SHU too. I suggest everybody finds a bunk and goes to sleep.” Red held Alex’s gaze and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, clarifying that this was not a suggestion at all, but rather a command. 

Nicky chimed in, turning to face a panting Leanne and the sickeningly sycophantic Angie.  
“I’m pretty sure everybody has better fucking things to do tonight than sorting out _your_ petty problems. So either get a CO, or fuck off.” When neither woman made any motion to move, Nicky spread her arms wide in frustration. “ _Choose already_ , I’m fuckin’ tired here.”

Alex felt boneless and backed away, her head in her hands as she sat down heavily on her side of the cube. There was a lull in the Suburbs as Leanne stood slowly on shaking legs to leave, the other inmates awaiting the outcome with bated breath.  
“Chapman didn’t stand a chance against ‘Tucky and the power of Jesus Christ!” She hissed, Angie snatching her pillow up as they both headed for Nicky’s now-unoccupied bunk.

As Alex seemed ready to stand again, Nicky lowered herself onto the bunk beside her. The frame of the bed creaked from their combined weight, and she placed a firm hand on Alex's thigh in a motion to keep her grounded. It was an odd mirror of their morning activities, although there was no Bora Bora board to cover the caress now, and it was less a gesture of lust than lassitude.

“What the _fuck_ was that about?” Alex asked softly, eyes boring into the linoleum floor. Nicky threw an arm around her shoulders carelessly, like a quarterback after the big game, and Alex found more comfort in the casual act than she would have had Nicky attempted a sensitive approach instead. The previous hand on her leg had been bearable, but out of character.  
“They’re fucking psychos, Vause.” Nicky murmured affirmatively, their shared expletives the closest to affection that she and Alex would ever have.

Sighing, Alex pushed herself back, her boots resting on the blanket as her spine collided with the cold cube wall. She leaned her head back against the bricks, barely noticing Nicky’s arm leave her neck as it moved to rest against her own instead, elbows nudging.

Pushing her glasses back down onto her face as the lights flicked off, Alex turned to face her new bunkmate, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”  
Nicky shrugged. “Too fuckin’ late now. I guess I’ll just have to wait here until morning. Besides, if you landed yourself in SHU, who could I share my cynicism with?"  
Alex laughed a little, in spite of herself. “What about Morello?”  
Nicky shook her head, and Alex could feel the blonde’s hair move against her shoulder as she did so. “Morello’s cute, but she couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel, you know? _You’re_ the brains of this operation.”

The woman's earnest eyes shone in the darkness, and Alex wondered if this was to be a continuation of their earlier fumblings. Same day, same bed, different shit. The sex had been reasonable, and Nicky evidently knew what she was doing, but she'd never come close to Piper: there was a spark missing, and oh how Alex longer for that spark now.  
She heard a soft thud as Nicky’s boots unlaced and hit the floor beside her. Alex found herself being tugged down to lie on her side, grudgingly allowing herself to relax into the arms of the woman behind. 

Nicky’s knees pressed into the backs of her own, and Alex felt compelled to speak, her mind racing as the warmth of an unfamiliar body brought forth a barrage of Piper-related memories.  
"Nicky, I-”  
Nicky sighed, interrupting. “Unless you’re about to tell me that you’re normally the big spoon, I don’t fuckin’ care, ‘kay? The fact that you’re a veritable giant means nothing.”  
The sound of a smile was evident in her reply, and Alex found tears in her eyes, releasing a soft huff of laughter as Nicky shuffled closer.  
The woman's voice appeared from the darkness again, breath warm against her ear. “And if anybody asks, _this never happened_. I’ve got a reputation to uphold around here.”  
Alex released a hushed cry, shoulders shaking as she did her best to contain it. 

Nicky found Alex’s hand in the dark and gave it a comforting squeeze; Alex had never dealt well with benevolence, particularly during her vulnerable moments. Kindness came in so many unexpected forms, and Nicky’s behaviour had blindsided her like an eighteen wheeler. Alex felt that there was nothing worse than people being _nice_ when she was at her weakest, and it was often only Nicky's callous form of friendly conversation that kept her from falling apart.  
“Thank you.” Alex whispered into the silent room.

After several minutes of stillness, Nicky’s breathing slowed, and Alex slid her glasses onto the floor beneath the bed.  
The blurred, nondescript, ever-shifting shapes of snowflakes drifting past the window caught her eye, the orange glow of the prison lights outside her cell illuminating the deep blue sky.  
She wondered if Piper was out there still, bloodied and beaten in the snow. Alex felt an overwhelming sense of uselessness, finding herself in an impossible predicament once again. 

This was worse than when Piper’s arrival in Belgium had been delayed, the caseful of drug money in her hands the equivalent of only a fraction of Piper’s worth to Alex. Her girlfriend had been worth more than one hundred time the value of that case, and Alex knew which one she’d have taken in a heartbeat.  
She would’ve quit that day if she’d have known the eventual outcome, that black hole of a morning in Paris. She’d watched Piper pulling away for days, easing herself aside, and could’ve have cried herself into coma if she hadn’t had a funeral to arrange.

Hindsight is twenty twenty, and Alex wondered if she’d seen the signs leading up to this too. When Piper had found her that morning, panic etched into her expression, should she have listened? _Probably_.  
Deep down, she had known that something was wrong. _Fucking Piper_. Alex would never get away. Not that she ever wanted to. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as she choked back another sob, and Nicky tensed against their interlocked fingers subconsciously, recognising distress but not waking to deal with it.  
Alex brought her knees up higher, until they were nearly touching her chest. This bunk definitely wasn't big enough for both of them, and her feet were nearly hanging over the edge, but Nicky's presence was comforting in a strange, sad sense. 

“What do I do if she doesn’t come back?” Alex asked under her breath, almost as much to herself as to anybody else.  
Languorous with lethargy, Nicky chuckled behind her, her exhalation breezing the hairs at the nape of Alex's neck. “That’s the problem with women, Vause." She said softly. "They _always_ come back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I told my friend that I'd upload a fic this weekend, and then this happened. (This wasn't quite what I had in mind, either. _And_ there's no sex in it. What the fuck is going on?)


End file.
